


The Joxter Returns to Moominvalley

by orphan_account



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Cat Parent Joxaren | The Joxter, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Joxaren | The Joxter Meets Snusmumriken | Snufkin, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26130259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Joxter is quite the ornery mumrik and finds himself in Moominvalley in his travels. He comes to meet Moomintroll and his family, not knowing that there's so much more in store for him.
Relationships: Joxaren | The Joxter & Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Joxaren | The Joxter/Mymlan | The Mymble, Lilla My | Little My/Snorkfröken | The Snork Maiden, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 131





	1. Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on impulse- enjoy~

The summer air is humid and, to be quite honest, an inch or two past torrid. Even with the wind tussling the branches and leaves at his side, the Joxter can feel sweat dripping from his face and paws. 

He's not very familiar with this area. Wooded and very green, it looks like most others he's visited, but carries a different air with it. Something magical, maybe? The Joxter considers this but figures instead that he had been here before and simply forgotten. That sounds like him, he decides with a nod.

Perched on a branch like he is, almost similar to a gargoyle, the Joxter watches the grass and woodland plants stir, and as he does he notices a small family of squirrels crawling about. His eyes dilate to the size of dinner plates then, the predator in him waking suddenly, and he decides to firstly slide down the tree trunk. He makes sure to use the pads of his digits instead of his claws too, internally thankful that his skin had hardened the way it has, lest he would receive splinters from his descent. 

Contrary to the way he'd been as a child, the Joxter is quite fast, even for a mumrik, and quiet too. Years of hunting have sharpened his senses, attuning him to his prey's ways. Among the weeds now, he crouches, his hind legs prepared to lunge. He crawls only a few feet, careful not to alert the squirrels to his presence, and is about to finally attack when a voice calls out to him.

"Hey, you!" The voice shouts. The Joxter nearly leaps out of his skin, but his hunger reminds him of his place, so reflexively, he springs from the grass to catch his would-be dinner- but it's too late. The squirrels, also notified of a presence by virtue of that (rather annoying, actually) voice, had scurried away rather quickly and are a hair short of the Joxter's range. Sitting back against the greenery, he huffs, but still manages a smile when he turns to look at the cause of his botched hunt. 

"I was rather hungry, you know," he says matter-of-factly, but not at all angrily, as that isn't his way, you see. The Joxter is laid-back, and most everyone knows that- he certainly isn't one to cause a tiff or anything of the sort, no. However, he can't ignore the burning annoyance in his empty stomach as it growls. 

The voice, which comes in the form of a moomintroll, approaches him with hands on his hips and brows drawn together in what seems like frustration.

"Well that was rather rude, you know! Those poor squirrels are just trying to return home!" 

Amused at the moomintroll's reaction to what was really only a matter of nature, the Joxter's ears twitch, and he smiles widely. 

Putting his paws between his legs, he rocks back and coyly states, "Yes, and I was just trying to fetch a meal, you see." Mumriks are known carnivores, after all. 

Surprised by his reaction, the troll puffs his cheeks. Its when he does this that the Joxter comes to realize he looks quite familiar- although he can't quite place how just yet.

"Perhaps stick to dead things? I think that's more humane." 

"Ah, but I am no human." The Joxter pushes himself up finally, once on his feet, coming to brush off any dirt on his coat. Standing now, he notices, with a tinge of embarrassment, actually, that he's a bit smaller than this young moomintroll. Of course, that's the curse mumriks have to bear- their stout stature, that is.

That same moomintroll squints at him now, trying to sort something out in that head of his, for a few moments that is, before he comes to a realization. 

"A mumrik!" His voice is a bit breathy as he says this, which confuses the Joxter. The moomintroll isn't far off from shock, there's no doubt about that, but the Joxter isn't sure why. Mumriks aren't something rare, at least in most areas- although it's true the Joxter has only met a few in his worldly travels- but it seems as if this troll has never met one before. 

However, he states just the opposite.

"I know a mumrik, but wow..."

"Wow?" The Joxter cocks his head, his ears flopping a bit beneath the rim of his hat. 

"You look a lot different." 

Surprised by the statement, the Joxter lets out a hearty laugh. The troll is an interesting one, most certainly is that, and quite honest in his heart. 

The Joxter decides then that he quite prefers this moomin, and decides to ask, "Does one such as yourself bear a name?" 

"It's just Moomintroll," he says, "but most people call me Moomin." 

"I see, I see." The Joxter taps a claw against his chin, something this Moomin finds rather enchanting (or something like that), as he stares at the action rather intently. "I knew a moomin once. Round thing was he. Rather hard-headed, so I suppose you're not much different than him." 

Beneath his fur, Moomin's skin flushes red. He clenches his paws into fists.

"I'm not hard-headed! I just don't stand to see innocent animals be hurt!" 

"Ah, but to be hurt is the way of nature, you know," The Joxter smiles knowingly, knowingly because he knows he is right, and Moomin realizes this, as he concedes with an annoyed breath.

"Well, if you're hunting for something like squirrels, you must be hungry."

"Quite," the Joxter states, knowing full-well that it was a moomin's way to assist in trivial matters such as that. 

Moomintroll seems to pick up on this, as he says, rather reluctantly (and with his arms crossed, even), "Fine then! But that's all I'm offering! You can sleep in your tent as mumriks do." 

Tent? The Joxter raises an eyebrow. Noticing this, Moomin's jaw drops slightly.

"Has everything I've gathered from mumriks been a lie?"

"It seems as such," The Joxter confirms. "I sleep in trees you see. Now," he saunters toward the moomin, his tail swishing from beneath his coat mischievously, "Where's that moomin house of yours?"

The woods thin more as they seem to near the moomin house, something the Joxter notices rather quickly, since that means there is not much shelter to speak of. The moomintroll who only goes by Moomin, as moomins do, is rather talkative. He doesn't skip from subject to subject though, and only seems focused on this 'mumrik' friend of his. He begins by telling him about his solitary ways, something the Joxter had no problem confirming to be a mumrik's way, but continues and mentions that he fishes (with a hook and line!) and sleeps in a tent- something the Joxter was all too unfamiliar with. 

"This mumrik... Looks different than me, you said?"

Happy to continue rambling about his friend, Moomin nods, saying, "Mm-hm! Well, sort of."

"Sort of?" The Joxter inquires. 

"You have the same face," the moomin explains. "Not much fur though. And you have cat-like eyes! His are more... Well, it's rather confusing actually. I've never seen eyes like /his/ before." The troll sighs, almost as if he were head over heels, but the Joxter has never heard of a moomin falling for a mumrik before. The two are simply too different. 

Eventually, Moomintroll notices the Joxter staring, and clears his throat before continuing.

"I've heard mumriks don't have a home though, and that's true for him too, I'd say. Snufkin never stays in one place forever." 

He seems a bit sad by this, so the Joxter says, "It sounds like he's found a home here, no?" The Moomin looks at him, bewildered. 

"W-What do you mean by that?"

"He stays for so long," the Joxter states as he turns away from his marshmallow-shaped acquaintance, "Most mumriks never do that."

Seemingly put into that state of shock he'd avoided earlier, Moomintroll stares blankly in his direction before turning to stare just as blankly at the ground. 

It's a nice silence for a few moments then, until the Joxter catches view of a tower of sorts. 

"Is that it?" The Joxter inquires, pointing a claw toward it. 

Moomin perks up, and bouncing a little, says, "Yes, yes!" And he suddenly grabs the Joxter's paw- but before he can say anything, Moomin shouts something he doesn't quite catch and runs toward the bridge branched over a stream- one that leads toward the moomin house. Standing there are three figures- two obviously moomins (his parents, most likely), and a small mymble child. Although, when the Joxter comes closer she doesn't have much of a face a child would.

"Mama, papa!" The moomintroll towing the Joxter shouts as he waves in their direction. They eventually reach the clearing, and while the Joxter looks around, Moomin slows to a stop and seems to deflate. Looking back at his acquiantance, he questions him.

"What's the matter?" 

"Oh, nothing," the moomin lets go of the Joxter's paw and shakes his head, clearly disappointed about something. "I just thought someone would be here is all."

With his ears drooped like that, the Joxter can't help but feel sorry for the marshmallow. What a poor marshmallow he is, the Joxter thinks, looking rather smooshed as he does. But a familiar voice pulls him from his thoughts (thoughts that don't visit very often, you see), and he perks up as Moomin had before.

"Moomintroll, is that you?!" His old friend, now much older and with a hat (and a wife and a small mymble child too, it seems), grins when he sees his old cat companion. 

"Well if it isn't the Joxter!" He chuckles as the aforementioned jogged toward him, his arms outstretched. They embrace each other when they meet, something neither of them were familiar with but welcomed, happy to see each other, especially after so long. 

Pulling away, the Joxter comments as he looks up quite a tad, "You've gotten quite big, haven't you now?" 

Moomintroll, or Moominpapa now, it seems, laughs again and puts a large hand on the rim of the Joxter's hat. 

"Or perhaps you've grown smaller?" 

"Oh hush, you," the Joxter giggles too and leaps up to cling to the larger moomin, using his round tummy as leverage for climbing higher. He grabs his hat and tosses it to the side, now assaulting the bare patch of fur on the top of his head with what the two used to call a "nuggie". 

"/He's/ the Joxter?" The smaller moomin inquires, walking toward them with stars in his eyes. 

The Joxter looks back at him for a moment before grinning and hooking an arm around Moominpapa's shoulder. 

"So you've mentioned me, eh? Hopefully only good things?" 

Still laughing, Moominpapa nods. 

"Yes, yes, the kids loving hearing of our adventurous tales." 

"I see, I see~" The Joxter hops down now, coming to address the smallest body on the bridge. "And you are?" 

"Little My," she states, her eyebrows drawn together. She looks rather angry, but the Joxter pays no mind to that and ruffles her hair, subsequently loosening the tight ponytail on her head. She growls and smacks his paw away when he does. "No touching!" 

"Sorry, sorry!" He looks over at Moominpapa. "So I suppose she isn't little in /that/ sort of way." 

Moominpapa shakes his head, his hat retrieved, and perched superiorly once more. 

Now looking at the rather lovely moomin at his side, who he decides must be Moominmama, he fetches her hand and does one of those bows of his, his hat against his chest in that polite sort of way.

"And how do you do?" Moominmama giggles at this, surprised by the attention.

"Quite well, thank you, Joxter." And the Joxter smiles in that cat-like way of his.

"Now, now, no seducing the wife!" Moominpapa puts his body between the two, forcing the Joxter to let go of her hand. He's laughing, but the Joxter is aware of how Moominpapa gets when he felt jealous. So the Joxter decides to pay him the favor that is honesty.

"Oh, no need to worry about that, I'd say it's been quite a while since my last affair." 

Moominpapa's eyebrows raise.

"You don't say!" Moominpapa hums thoughtfully for a moment or two before glancing at Little My. It seems to remind him of something, so when he looks back at the Joxter his eyes have a new gleam to them. 

"Don't tell me it's due to a certain mymble now~" There's a certain way he speaks when he says this, his tone between something teasing and genuine pride. This embarrasses the Joxter greatly, so he can't help but blush and tilt his head down, using his hat to obscure his face. 

Little My looks scandalized at this.

"You can't be serious," she states plainly. When the Joxter rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, she gasps, clenching her paws into fists like little Moomin had not so long ago. "Mother liked /you/?! But you're basically a cat!" 

"Hush, Little My." Moominmama scolds her gently. With a "hmph!" Little My crosses her arms and turns her head away. The Joxter knows he will have to have a talk with her later.

"Is she why you came to Moominvalley, old Joxter?" Moominpapa asks. The Joxter shakes his head, but not before clearing his throat in an attempt to push away his newfound shyness. 

"Quite frankly, I didn't even realize this was Moominvalley. I came here entirely on accident."

Moomin, Moominpapa's child, takes the moment to butt in. 

"Yes, yes, and he hasn't eaten in a while!" 

The Joxter glances over at him, only to be met with a wink. He smiles slightly to himself.

"Oh, poor Joxter, well come on in. We have plenty of food, even some fish saved," Moominmama puts a hand on the Joxter's back, now ushering up the hill to her front door. The Joxter complies without much of a complaint.

"Some fish would be lovely, Moominmama." He replies softly, and with one last glance back at Moomin, he decides that perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea to lose those squirrels. 


	2. A Different Sort of Creature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin and Little My find an interest in the Joxter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is weirdly fun to write lol

Moomintroll finds the Joxter to be a different sort of mumrik- at least in comparison to what he's used to. Snufkin is much different, you see. It seems the two only have independence (particularly to the point of homelessness) and a solitary nature in common. 

Moomintroll has created a list of sorts in his head, tallying the differences and similarities between the two, but has an issue in finding much of the latter. 

Similarity: the two both fish, however, that's also a difference because Snufkin uses a fishing pole and the Joxter uses his paws or teeth. Another similarity would be the two living off the land and sleeping outside, but the Joxter is different even in that way because he hunts more similarly like a feral animal for food, in contrast to how Snufkin would, most definitely, and sleeps in trees. 

Differences, as previously mentioned, are much easier to distinguish. They look similar, even down to their attire, but Snufkin is much less furry and more on the side of a mymble when it comes to features such as ears or eyes. The Joxter, on the other hand, truly looks like what Moomintroll had thought a mumrik to be- down to the fuzzy, pointed ears beneath his hat, to his paws. No, despite similarities in basic facial features, Snufkin really seems to be his own sort of creature.

The Joxter, who sits before him, snarfs down a plate of fish Mama had prepared without paying mind to the others sat around him. And yes, that's another difference as well. Snufkin isn't one to eat so impolitely. 

Once finished, he rocks back on his chair and rubs his belly, his tail swooshing behind him, clearly pleased. 

"It's been a while since I've had a cooked meal, you see," he explains when he notices Little My's judgemental gaze on him. "And I quite enjoy your cooking particularly, Moominmama." 

Moomintroll turns his gaze to his mother, who only hums in response. She's knitting, something she only tends to do near the winter but is doing now likely because of the state of the Joxter's scarf around his neck. Yes, Moomintroll has no doubt she intends to replace that.

"Will you be staying around a little while?" Moominpapa asks, almost eagerly, which is most likely because he wants his old friend around for just a while longer (something Moomintroll related to quite wholely). But the Joxter shakes his head.

"There's not much shelter in the woods, you see. It's rather thin on the outskirts- I'd have trouble shielding myself if any rain came." 

"Oh, well that's no problem, Joxter!" Moominpapa chides, patting his back. Both Moomintroll and the Joxter gaze at Moominpapa with a look of confusion in their eyes. Surely it was? 

When Moominpapa notices their confusion, he continues, saying, "We have an attic if you'd like to stay here for a while. I'm sure Moomin wouldn't mind, would you, Moomin?" 

Moomintroll's jaw drops slightly. He had only just promised a meal to the Joxter, and this really quite betrays his initial idea of hospitality. But when the Joxter looks over at him hopefully, of course, he can't say no. 

Moomin sighs.

"No, I wouldn't mind I suppose." At this, the Joxter's ears perk up in his happiness, and he smiles, thanking Moomin and apologizing for being a burden. While Moominpapa assures him this isn't the case, Moomintroll notices Little My glaring a hole in his head. He frowned at her. "I wasn't about to let the homeless guy rough it in the wilderness!" 

"He's a mumrik," Little My states pointedly. "It's what they do."

Later that night, Moomintroll opens his room to the Joxter, even setting up a mattress that the Joxter promptly abandons for the foot of Moomin's bed. Laying beneath his sheets, Moomin stares up at the ceiling.

"Hey, Joxter?"

Despite being curled up as he is, the Joxter hums, "Yes, Moomintroll?" 

Moomin ponders on his question before asking it, unsure if it is truly the polite thing to say, especially to a guest such as the Joxter, but asks it anyway.

"Would you say it's impossible for a mumrik to find a home?" And when it is silent for a moment or two, Moomintroll fears he has said the wrong thing. But the Joxter eventually gets up some and turns his body to face Moomintroll. 

"Is this about your friend?"

Moomin chokes up.

"Could be," he admits. "Hard to say."

After staring at him intently- something Moomin finds rather uncomfortable but comes to realize is simply a way of the Joxter- the Joxter finally says, "I wouldn't say it's impossible." He smiles down at the wood under him. "I found a home once, but I couldn't stay."

Moomintroll turns his head, eventually meeting the Joxter's gaze. 

"Why not?" 

The Joxter shrugs, and says, "It's simply not in my cards, I suppose." But when Moomin deflates, he adds, "But it's not impossible." 

It's silent then, for a few minutes or so, until Moomin then asks, "Do you think Snufkin could find a home here?"

The Joxter chuckles.

"It sounds like he already has."

~

The next day, Little My jumps on the Joxter to wake him up- something the mumrik hardly notices but wakes up to anyway. Once he has, she tells him, plainly, that she wishes to go on a walk with him. The Joxter, expecting this, concedes, and it's not long before the two step past the front door and into the outdoors. 

Side-by-side now, the little mymble is rather quiet. She kicks a rock here and there, most likely unsure of what to say exactly. But it's not until she lets out a huff once or twice that the Joxter takes the hint and speaks first.

"Lovely day, isn't it?"

Little My glares at him. Oh, that must have been the wrong thing to say.

Shrinking back a little in his discovery, the Joxter looks away and adds, "It's been a while since I've been here."

"Oh?" Little My mumbles. "What's kept you, then?" 

"Nothing, really," the Joxter admits, fidgeting with his paws in his pockets. "I suppose my mind doesn't focus on much at a time, you see," he laughs shortly. 

Little My stares up at him with an eyebrow raised but then turns away with an understanding sigh. 

"I can understand that," she says. "Still, if you'd really fancied my mother, I think you would have visited once or twice."

"Oh, but how I wanted to," the Joxter murmurs, glancing away to gaze at the nearby flower field. "I was simply never nearby. Until now, that is." 

Little My kicks another rock. 

"So she really caught your fancy, then?" She asks.

"I had never stayed for someone as long as I had with her," the Joxter confirms. 

"Yes or no would have sufficed," Little My states plainly, her hands on her hips now. The Joxter chuckles.

"Yes, I really quite fancy her."

~

The Joxter stays for a few days after that. Most often, Moomin would find him eating or napping on the veranda, which doesn't leave much room for conversation. However, Moomin knows he has more important matters to attend to anyway, most importantly being sitting near the bridge waiting for Snufkin to return. 

He's even going to do so one day when Moomintroll finds that Joxter curled up on said bridge, gazing at the fish in the waters below. Moomin watches him silently, noticing how the Joxter's pupils have dilated so. It almost reminds him of Snufkin's- his pupils were almost always dilated, it seemed. 

Approaching now (with Snufkin still on his mind), Moomin says, "I hope I'm not interrupting your hunt again." The Joxter doesn't look away from his potential catch. 

"You may be," he says. "I haven't decided yet." 

With a sigh, Moomin comes to sit beside him, toying with the small box he had brought with him. He's considering once again how Snufkin will react to the gift when he notices the Joxter staring hungrily at it. Moomintroll immediately holds it behind his back, hiding it from the mumrik's reach, or trying to anyway.

"Is that for your friend?" He asks, tilting his head and moving some to glance behind Moomin's back. Embarrassed, Moomintroll takes the opportunity to hide it even further. 

"Well, that's none of your business, now is it!" But the Joxter pays him no mind and assumes a stance with his hind legs hunched behind him. Moomintroll has seen this many times with Little My and the stray cats he sometimes found about- he's about to pounce. But before he can stop him, the Joxter is on his lap and crawling up his torso, reaching eagerly for the box behind the troll's back. 

"H-Hey!" He considers throwing it for a moment, however, he doesn't get the chance, as the Joxter manages to get his greedy paws on it and leap to crouch on the railway of the bridge, the box settled carefully between his knees. 

"Oh, it /is/ a gift." He says, tilting the box to the side and shaking it some. Moomintroll runs toward him, his arms outstretched.

"Don't shake it! Give it back!" But the Joxter uses Moomin's soft head as a means to skip to the parallel railing. All the while, gazing at the present with wonder in his eyes.

Moomintroll runs to retrieve it once more, only for the Joxter to leap off the bridge, landing on the riverbed close by. With the box sitting before him and him doing what Little My called "loafing", he stares intently at it and questions Moomin.

"What's inside?" 

Moomintroll huffed, plopping his head on the railing where the Joxter had just been. 

He gives up, finally, and replies with, "Just something I made..." Quickly, then, the troll perks up, a worried tone now in his voice. "It's nothing special though! I just thought...!" But then he sighs, resting his snout back on the wood. 

The Joxter's gaze flicks up to meet Moomin's. 

"You just thought...?"

"I dunno," Moomin mutters. "Something stupid, I guess." 

The Joxter's ears twitch as he watches the Moomin's smooshed-marshmallow demeanor. 

"You like him, is that it?" And Moomin looks scandalized. 

"L-/Like/ him?!" He sputters. "He's-! He's just a friend!" 

The Joxter smiles, "I meant as a friend, Moomintroll." 

Moomin's silent now, his eyes still wide from his fear from earlier, or perhaps due to his embarrassment, which is indicative from the red on his face. He crosses his arms and sighs, finally coming to approach the mumrik and sit beside him. 

After a while, he says, "It's stupid, isn't it," which sounds more like a statement than a question.

"I wouldn't say so," the Joxter hums. He falls back, his spine colliding with the grass beneath him. He spreads his arms out, stretching some, and uses his foot to push the gift back toward Moomin. He doesn't even bother picking it up before he falls beside the Joxter, joining him against the green.

"And why's that." Moomin looks over at the Joxter with a question in his eyes, and the Joxter smiles again.

"I lied before," the Joxter admits, turning away to look up at the clouds. "A mumrik often finds a home. It's unconventional in the way it presents, but exists nonetheless." 

Moomin listens to him intently.

"Most find a home in themselves, but that is often not enough, you see." The Joxter opens his mouth to say more, but nothing comes out. 

When Moomin realizes he's not to continue, he asks, "You found a home, didn't you, Joxter?"

The Joxter closes his eyes with a sigh.

"Yes, but I haven't returned in quite some time." And opening his eyes, he thinks aloud, "I'm afraid it hadn't waited for me." 

He feels like crying, which is a strange sensation. There was a time when he wasn't familiar with the feeling, but the time eventually came when he learned of it. Similarly, it was due to the same reasons. The Joxter swallows hard, sure he couldn't speak anymore now. But Moomin, as kind as he is, reaches out to pat the Joxter's paw. The former turns to face him.

"Home is forever, Joxter," Moomin says. "If it's truly home, it's still waiting for you." Most moomins smile with their eyes, and he does too, the Joxter notes. "I can promise you that." 

The Joxter gazes back, unsure of what to say at first, but eventually, he sighs, finding it. 

Facing the clouds once again, he says, "Moomins are quite kind souls, aren't they." It's more of a statement than a question. Beside him, Moomin chuckles.

"Yes, I suppose that's true- but I definitely got it from my mother."


	3. Homebody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin returns to Moominvalley only to find out the Moomins are rather busy, but with what exactly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry its so short loves im working at the next chapter as we speak!

The Moomin family is acting suspicious, the Joxter absently notes from where he lay. On days such as these, he would normally be sleeping on the one couch inside the Moominhouse, having his tail chased by that little mymble as it flicked with each new dream that passed. He has no such luck today, however, as the Moomin family ushered him outside early in the morning to nap on a rather comfortable pillow on the porch. Distantly, he hears them chattering excitedly inside and running around, apparently doing something that is rather urgent. 

But the Joxter pays it no mind. If it were truly important, they would tell him, he decides. So he merely remains curled up on the pillow, drifting in and out of sleep as the cool Spring breeze blows gently by. 

~

It has been rather warm lately- well, even more so than just warm, actually, Snufkin amends internally. The summer heat has come early, it seems, and nature's neat and tidy order has been disrupted just a tad. The day before this, Snufkin hiked only a few miles before setting up camp, as the heat was very much unbearable for his tastes. Today, though, it's as Spring should be: cool, humid. A perfect day to return to Moominvalley.

Snufkin trots down the path with a skip in his step as he plays his Spring tune for the year. It's not quite different than the ones previous to it, but Snufkin likes to think it has a different air to it, although he can't quite tell what that air brings with it. 

He's nearing the Moominhouse- close enough to see it- when he comes to a stop and rests his hand against a tree. He smiles a bit to himself, and although he wouldn't acknowledge it, he's quite happy to return to Moomintroll.

He steps down the hill, pointedly playing his tune louder (so that Moomin would hear, of course) as he nears the bridge. However, he's surprised to see that it's not Moomin waiting for him, but a sleeping creature of sorts with a hat very similar to his own. 

He stops playing, confused, as he has never seen this creature before. From where it lay, its face is obscured, so Snufkin walks toward it (cautiously, of course). His approaching, however, does not rouse this beast, so he speaks to it instead.

"Excuse me?" The creature's tail flicks at this, but it doesn't wake up. Not until Snufkin repeats himself a few times, anyway. 

With a wide-mouthed yawn and a stretch much similar to how a cat would do when awoken, the creature finally slips out of slumber. It turns to Snufkin, its blue eyes half-open and indentations from the bridge pressed into its face. Its attire is similar to Snufkin's as well, the vagabond notices, so the possibility arises in his mind that this creature may possibly be a mumrik as well. Although it had much stranger ears and more fur across its face.

Snufkin is about to ask if this stranger is like him when that same stranger speaks first. 

It (or he) says, "Are you that Snufkin character I've been hearing so much about?" The creature rests his head back down, either uninterested in an answer or much too tired to really register one.

Snufkin, in his confusion, nods and asks him, "Who are you, then?" 

"The Joxter," the Joxter states plainly. "A full-bred mumrik, which you most certainly are not." 

He surely didn't mean that offensively, so Snufkin lets the comment pass by him like the breeze. 

"Do you know the Moomin family?" 

"You may consider me an old friend," the Joxter smiles in return. Finally rising from his place on the bridge, he stretches once more and says, "The Moomin family is quite busy, you see, so don't take any offense that none came to greet you." From his place now, he more or less comes to fully register the creature before him. 

This Snufkin looks quite like him, the Joxter decides. Sure he was rather naked in terms of fur across his body and more mymble-eyed than anything else, but the two share quite some features in common. So the Joxter approaches the younger mumrik, his pupils dilating into disks, and steps around him, pointedly observing Snufkin to learn more. And he allows the Joxter to do just that- until the older mumrik lifts the back of his coat, looking for a tail. Snufkin smacks his paws away and turns around, indignant. 

He's about to share a word with him, you see, but a rather cheerful voice chimes from the Moominhouse. From the front door, which is now open rather than closed, Moominpapa's son waves wildly. His eyes are starry and his grin is wide, the Joxter notices, and when he looks toward Snufkin he comes to find that there's nothing much different on his face. 

Moomintroll laughs happily as he runs from the door toward his mumrik companion, and Snufkin jogs to meet him just as he drops his rather heavy-looking pack on the ground behind him. They embrace tightly when they meet, as if one was all the other had been wishing for when they were apart, and the Joxter realizes that perhaps... the love between a mumrik and a moomin isn't so impossible. 

~

The Joxter, as lazy as he is, returns to sleep on the pillow the moomins had put on the porch as soon as he gets the chance to. Meanwhile, distantly, Moomintroll listens to his Snufkin tell stories of his travels. Moomin sighs reverently upon his finishing, the stars not once leaving his eyes. 

Eventually, though, Snufkin inquires, "So, the Joxter?" It's a rather leading question, but Moomintroll knows exactly what he means. He snaps out of the trance Snufkin had pulled him into.

"Oh, right! I should've told you immediately, I'm sorry, Snuf, you must be so confused..." 

"It's no problem," Snufkin says simply, reaching out to run his fingers through the grass and stems of the flower meadow near the Moominhouse. "Did he only just arrive?" 

"Only just," Moomin confirms. "He's a mumrik too, you know. Although a lot different than you."

"A lot lazier," Snufkin agrees. The two chuckle a bit to themselves, eying the sleeping figure on the porch quite a ways away. 

"He truly is similar to me, though. It's a little strange," Snufkin chuckles, albeit somewhat awkwardly. 

"It turns out he was Moominpapa's friend, once upon a time," Moomin informs Snufkin as he gazes gently toward him. "Did you know that?" 

"I didn't," Snufkin gazes back. "He mentioned something about you all being busy, though. Mind telling me over just what?" 

Moomin perks up immediately at this and looks back at the sleeping Joxter before nodding excitedly at Snufkin.

"You see, we have a surprise." 


End file.
